


I'll Walk You Home

by Senei



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Desperation, M/M, Urine, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5452592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senei/pseuds/Senei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke is not drunk, but he can be an idiot sometimes, and Fenris might have caught on to the fact that he's been holding his piss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Walk You Home

**Author's Note:**

> FenHawke piss fic (sorta) because I just can't stop myself from sinning. Sort of a rewrite of something I'd posted, and took down, last year. This is much better, I promise. Takes place sometime after Act II in that three-year time skip. 
> 
> I apologize to the fandom. If I become known as the guy who writes Dragon Age pissfic, I guess that's on me. Enjoy?

Hawke had gotten into the habit of holding his piss quite by accident. Running all around Kirkwall left little time to find an alley to duck into and relieve himself, so he'd more often than not wait until he got back to the estate. Some nights, this was later than others and the urgent twinge of his bladder was enough to set him on edge. The stairs were a pain to climb. Armour was a pain to struggle out of, when he finally reached his room to drag the chamber pot towards him – gently in case it hadn't been properly emptied – with his foot as he unbuckled each, heinously tedious strap of leather that held the metal plates in place.

 

He didn't think anyone had noticed this little habit of his, until one night he caught Fenris watching him from across the table as they all settled into a game of Wicked Grace. The elf's eyes were slitted as he squinted at Hawke, just two narrow lines of green peering at him inquisitively.

 

Hawke squirmed. His need wasn't urgent yet, but he'd been more uncomfortable today for some reason. It was probably the heat that made the streets of Kirkwall a variable oven. _Summer in the City of Chains at its finest_ , he thought to himself as he took a tankard of mead Isabela thrust his way. When he flicked his eyes back to Fenris, the elf had looked away, his attention drawn elsewhere as Varric was making him deal out the first round. Hawke watched him shuffle the cards, contemplating getting up to use the privy out back before the round started, but before he could make up his mind cards were being flicked his way and Merrill announced to the group that tonight, she thought she would win.

 

Three deals later, Merrill had not won once, and Isabela looked like she was going to be taking home the entire pot. Hawke had also finished off his first tankard and started on a second, much against his better judgement. With the distraction of the card game, any urgency he had to go was forgotten, and only briefly remembered if he shifted too awkwardly and put pressure on his quickly filling bladder. Thus, by the end of the card game he was not only a little tipsy, but completely unaware of just how full he was until he stood up from the table. Hawke barely got out the words, “Good game,” before his bladder out-right throbbed and he swayed dangerously.

 

“You okay, Hawke?” Varric asked, obviously concerned.

 

Hawke waved his hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. Just... I think that mead went to my head.”

 

A perfectly good excuse. It was well-known among the group that he didn't hold his alcohol well, and with the heat... Two tankards of mead was enough to have him swaying. Varric still looked at him like he thought he might be lying, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to bring it up, so Hawke continued to smile and tried his best to straighten up.

 

He felt a hand against his back, and looked around to see Fenris standing there. Hawke hadn't heard him walk up, the elf's bare feet quiet on the wooden floor of the tavern. “I can walk you home, Hawke,” he said.

 

“I-It's alright,” Hawke stammered. He didn't exactly want Fenris to know that he'd been holding his piss all night, mostly due to his own absentmindedness. He also didn't want to have to duck into an alley to relieve himself with Fenris watching, and he didn't think he could hold it until he made it back to the estate.

 

“We are going the same direction,” Fenris pointed out, “It would be no trouble.”

 

“It would put my mind at ease, too, if Broody walked you home,” Varric added. “I wouldn't want you to pass out on the side of the road and wake up in nothing but your smalls.”

 

Hawks grimaced, but there seemed to be nothing he could do. “A-alright, if you insist.” 

  
  


“I do,” Fenris said with one of his rare, small smiles that always succeeded in making Garrett's heart flutter. Tonight, it practically pounded as he grew more flustered by the second. 

 

“Shall we?” Fenris asked. 

 

Garrett just nodded. 

  
  


“Goodnight, Hawke!” Merrill called sleepily from the table as Fenris nudged him in the direction of the door. 

  
  


“Don't let him fall over,” Isabela called after them as they left the tavern. 

  
  


Once outside, the somewhat fresh air did some to help ease Hawke’s urgency. Fenris still had his hand on Hawke’s back, it seemed that he was taking Isabela’s request to heart as he guided Hawke away from the tavern and towards the long staircase that led to High Town. Hawke wanted to talk, they usually did as they made their way back from the Hanged Man to their homes. That night though, Hawke was too distracted by the increasing urgency in his bladder to think about anything other than the pressure in his abdomen, and how each time he took a step he imagined he could feel the liquid inside him sloshing about. 

 

He very well might have been able to, the urgency was getting that bad. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and it was not entirely because of how hot, humid the night was. 

 

“Hawke?” Fenris asked after the silence dragged on for minutes. “Are you alright?” 

 

Hawke nodded, a tight smile on his face. “Fine, yeah.” 

 

“You look pale, are you certain you're not nauseous? I did not think you drank enough to get you that drunk, however...” Fenris trailed off. He'd dropped his hand from Hawke's back a while ago, but he looked like he might be tempted to put it back, judging by the way the elf was looking at him.

 

Hawke could not blame him, he was swaying a bit, his steps beginning to falter as they approached the giant staircase. For a brief moment, Hawke thought he might be able to make it, but then his bladder throbbed and he came to a full stop, right in the middle of the road. Fenris made it a few paces before he noticed Hawke wasn't beside him anymore, and he doubled back to his side. One of his eyebrows was raised, questioning.

 

“I- I'm fine. Fenris,” Hawke croaked as he squeezed his thighs together, in a way that he hoped was not too noticeable. No such luck, as Fenris' eyes darted downwards at the movement.

 

“Hawke...” Fenris stepped closer, looking around briefly before he glanced up, at Hawke's steadily reddening face. “What are you doing?”

 

“I'm just a little drunk, that's all,” Hawke said. He tried to laugh and brush it off, but he was at that level of urgency now where he had to squirm. It was too uncomfortable, he was full to capacity and his body was telling him that he better get to a privy soon, because all that liquid was coming out.

 

Fenris did not respond, he didn't need to. Hawke knew that the elf was aware he was lying. Hawke raised his hands to his face, covering his eyes as his bit down on his bottom lip. “I... I may have put off a trip to the privy for too long...” He admitted in the quietest, tiniest voice he could manage – an impressive feat for someone of his stature.

 

A soft sigh was all Hawke got in response from Fenris, no words from the elf. Hawke was sure Fenris must think he was impossibly stupid, which he was, and that the elf was more than likely embarrassed to be seen with him. Just as he was considering making a run for it to escape the situation, he felt Fenris' hand wrap around his wrist, tugging one of his hands down. Hawke let the other drop, as well, and peered through his eyelashes at Fenris.

 

The elf had a slight flush to his cheeks, but he didn't seem disgusted with Hawke. He huffed. “Do you think you can make it back to your estate?”

 

Hawke pondered that question, even as he was in the process of squirming, his bladder too full and threatening to leak. It was tempting to answer yes, but another urgent throb forced both his hand down to grab at his thigh, and the word 'no' from his mouth. Hawke clenched his fists and shifted from one foot to the other.

 

“Then you should go in an alley, Hawke, no one in Low Town will judge you,” Fenris said. He had yet to let go of Hawke's wrist, his eyes cast downwards as he spoke.

 

It was odd, but by the way the elf was acting, Hawke thought that he might be enjoying this. “Fenris, are you-” He stopped in the middle of his thought. A spasm caused him to double over, wrenching his wrist from Fenris' hand, as he brought both to his crotch to grip at himself. Despite his quick reaction, he was sure a few drops of urine had escaped, leaking from the end of his cock.

 

“Oh no,” Hawke moaned, terror evident in his voice.

 

“Hawke, get in the alley,” Fenris insisted. He shoved Hawke along, and the man could not protest, as they hurried towards the nearest, secluded corner that Kirkwall's Low Town had to offer.

 

Once in the shadows between two buildings, Hawke unclenched himself and started to fumble with his trousers. He didn't dare relax all the way, and the tension in all his muscles was causing his hands to shake. The laces were practically impossible, his meaty fingers fumbling them as he hurried. He let out a slight sound of distress, feeling more liquid leak from him as he tried his best to free himself.

 

Much more capable hands pushed his out of the way. “Let me,” Fenris muttered.

 

Hawke could only stare as Fenris undid the laces on his trousers, yanking them down slightly when he pulled away so Hawke would have an easier time freeing his cock. He didn't have time to be embarrassed that the elf had just had his hands a hair's breath away from his intimate parts, or that he was still standing there.

 

Something about how his trousers had been sitting, just below his bladder, but have been preventing at least some liquid from seeping out. Before Hawke could free himself, he lost some control on his bladder. Urine rushed out, wetting the front of his smalls as his body tried to force the relief it craved. Hawke gasped loudly, in horror, as a wet mark spread across the front of his trousers, before he hurried pulled his cock out and aimed – he hoped – away from his own feet.

 

It was instant satisfaction as he let his bladder release. A day's worth of piss flowed out of him in a rush, the steady steam hitting the ground with a slight hiss. Hawke moaned, his eyes closed, cheeks flushed a brilliant red. He was fairly certain he'd heard Fenris gasp, too, when he'd very nearly, or perhaps more accurately, only slightly wet himself. He could not focus on that now, instead he allowed himself to just float through the experience, which was as close to ecstasy as he was going to get in this sort of situation.

 

When the stream finally abated, he let out a miserable sigh, and tucked his cock back into his damp trousers. He could not bring himself to look up. “Well, I've made a fool of myself,” Hawke muttered.

 

A hand settled on his back, rubbing him in some attempt at reassurance. “It's alright, Hawke,” Fenris said. He sounded genuine enough, though his voice was a little rough.

 

Hawke glanced at him, finding the elf with flushed cheeks and a nervous look on his face. “I nearly pissed myself, Fenris,” Hawke pointed out.

 

“Yes,” Fenris replied.

 

“That doesn't bother you?”

 

“No, Hawke, it doesn't.”

 

Hawke stared at him. Fenris looked away, flush growing darker on his cheeks.

 

“I... noticed back at the Hanged Man,” Fenris admitted. “I had hoped... Maybe you'd attempt to make it all the way to the estate.”

 

Hawke's heart was hammering in his chest. “Oh,” he said dumbly. “You... _Oh.”_

 

“I believe it's my turn to be embarrassed,” Fenris said. He tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow. 

 

Unable to help himself, Hawke reached out – with the hand he'd not just been using to hold his own, damp cock – and placed it on Fenris' shoulder. He gave him a reassuring squeeze. “It's alright. I mean, I can't say that I- You just watched me piss in an alley, for Andraste's sake.” 

 

This time, Fenris laughed and it was genuine. “I did.” 

 

“Did you, ah... Get a thrill out of it, so to speak?” 

 

The tips of Fenris' ears were pink. It was endearing. “You are... pleasing to watch, when you are that urgent,” Fenris admitted. His voice was so quiet, Hawke barely heard him. “I'm sorry, Hawke, this must be too-” 

 

“No! No it's fine,” Hawke said. He squeezed Fenris' shoulder a little harder. “I... I like the full feeling. I've been holding a lot, recently, this time just got a little out of hand.” He admitted it all in a deluge of words that left his cheeks bright scarlet, his beard not doing much to hide the flush. 

 

He was just glad that any arousal at the situation had not yet reached his cock. That would have been more than he could have handled. 

 

Fenris stared at him, mouth a touch open, eyes wide. Finally, after what felt like hours, but was surely only a few seconds, Fenris smiled. Hesitantly, he said, “Perhaps next time... We should leave the Hanged Man a little earlier.” 

 

Hawke bit his lip. “Perhaps.” 

 

“It wouldn't be very becoming of the Champion of Kirkwall to wet himself in public...” 

 

“Maybe in private,” Hawke said, without thinking. 

 

Fenris laughed. “Yes, that is what I was suggesting.” 

 

“Oh,” Hawke said. “Well, good.” 

 

Fenris nodded. He lifted Hawke's hand from his shoulder, then reached between them to Hawke's crotch, pulling the laces – still damp – of Hawke's trousers closed for him. His own lip was between his teeth as he did. When he was finished, he looked up at Hawke's face. “Shall I continue to walk you home?” 

 

“If you don't mind,” Hawke said quietly, expertly resisting the urge to shove Fenris against the alley wall and kiss him, right there. 

 

“I never mind, Hawke.” 

 

And so they left, Hawke only slightly self-conscious about the wet stain on the front of his trousers. The fact that his fingers were twined with Fenris' between them as they walked made it all the more barely, and for once in his life, he thanked his own stupidity. It seemed things were going to get interesting after that night. 

 

 

 


End file.
